Shattered
by Neko-chan -Silvered Tongue
Summary: [Yami no Bakura POV] Shattered faith and jaded cynicism. There is no one out there. ...Yami no Bakura's view on religion... {Submission for Chibizoo's Fanfiction Contest}


Shattered

By: Neko-chan

  
  


~Yu-Gi-Oh! Fanfiction Contest~

----Yami no Bakura P.O.V.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Angst/Spiritual/Psychological----mainly Psychological.

Summary: Shattered faith and jaded cynicism. There is no one out there.

DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, I can't claim ownership of Yu-Gi-Oh!. But you already knew that, didn't you?

  
  


~ * ~

  
  


"Mommy? Mommy, where are you? It's dark and I can't see anything. Mommy, where are you? Mommy??? I'm all alone..."

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep; and if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take..."

There is no one out there. 

A lie, a lie, a lie. A lie made to fool stupid mortals, giving comfort and taking comfort in the fact that there is a higher power out there. But there isn't. There never was and there never will be. It's all just a lie.

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you..."

Pretty words--but meaningless words, as well. How can a person truly believe that the human race as a whole is kind and caring and compassionate? That they will truly take these words to heart and treat others as they want to be treated themselves? Naive. However... I have taken these words to my heart, twisting them in my own sadistic little way. 

'Do unto others as they have done unto you.' 

This is _my_ prayer, my truest belief. I _have_ done unto others as they have done unto me--Broken me. Shattered me. Killed me inside and out. Left me all alone, bereft and empty inside. Yes, that's the driving force of it all: I'm empty inside. My only consolation?

They're empty inside now, too.

"Do what ye will, but harm ye none..."

The world is filled with hatred and the burning desire to hurt. This is how it is. This is how it always will be. There is no other reality.

"Every action comes back to you threefold..."

Every action does, no matter what you do. Yet another consolation: What they have done has gone back to them threefold, as well. Me? It doesn't matter, anyway. Not anymore. I can kill and destroy and torture and break. And it doesn't matter at all because of one very fine detail: I'm already dead. Frees up my decisions greatly, don't you think?

"Preserve life..."

Why preserve something when you can destroy it so thoroughly with barely a touch? Corrupt, mutilate, rip it to pieces so no one will ever recognize that which needed to be preserved. Why preserve life if all there is... is death?

"Karma..."

I know that I'm evil. I'm evil and sadistic and cruel. I like pain and I like blood. _This is who I am._ Nothing can ever change that. Nothing will ever make a difference. I know that if I believed in karma, I'd be coming back as a cockroach next lifetime around. (Reincarnation. How silly. Never realizing the truth, always thinking that you'll be reborn again to try everything a second time, to become a better person until you finally achieve Nirvana. Like everything else, that's a lie. The truth: You die and then that's it. But for a select few, you become a spirit and reside in a Sennen Item for several thousand years, wishing you were rotting away under the hot Egyptian sun. ... Me? No, of course I'm not being cynical. Why do you ask?) There are perks of coming back as a cockroach, though. At least I'd be one of the few animals to survive nuclear fallout. (Or so says yadonushi.)

~ ~ ~

This is my world. It is filled with anger and hatred and loathing. Loathing for myself and for others. You would say that it is a cold and cruel world, but I like it just fine. It suits me, don't you think? My world is empty, just like I am.

All of my life, I was raised to fear the gods. To pay homage and to worship at their feet. Like I've said, though: It's all lies. There is no higher power and there is no one out there. We are all alone, drifting through an endless expanse of oblivion. Forever night. This is our world and this is our reality. To deny this is to deny what truly _is_.

I do not believe, though I once did. I once believed with all my heart and with all my soul--when I actually _had_ a soul, that is. But lying awake at night, crying for some unknown reason, yearning for a presence that you _can't_ feel, no matter what you do or try, perceptions change. Truth is finally revealed.

And that truth hurts more than anything previously experienced.

I am alone.

You are alone.

We are all alone.

I--you, we--go through life thinking that there's a higher power somewhere looking out for us. That there are several powers that are divine--that love us, that hate us, that wait for us after we die. It doesn't matter what, exactly, those higher powers are there for. We take comfort in the fact that they are there. We take comfort in the fact that they'll be waiting for us after we die, guiding us toward some pathway that people have walked down so many, many times before. Once again, that's all just a lie.

We die and then that's it.

There is no place we go to. Our life just ends like it had no meaning at all. Snuffed out with no wrinkle in the total fabric of history. I know this for fact because I experienced just that before I was bound to the Sennen Ring. There was _no one_ waiting for me. No one. I was all alone.

This is the truth and this is the reality.

All of the religions are just a big hoax. A huge lie; a scam. Can't you see that? I see that and it fills me with nothing. I am content with the fact that religion is a lie and that there is no higher power because I've known for a very long time that the only person who matters is yourself. When it comes down to it, you must count on yourself and believe in yourself. Faith is a matter for the weak and the simple-minded. Those who have faith get destroyed _by_ that faith.

In the end, I am my own God. 

I am Ore-Sama. 

Kami-Sama. 

Call me what you wish, but I am a power unto myself. To you, I will become God and I will show you all that no one is looking out for you. This is my promise to you. My promise.

In the end, there will only be shattered hope and shattered lives. Shattered faith, as mine was shattered so many thousands of years ago. This is our reality--mine, yours, ours.

More so than anyone else, this is _my_ reality. Why should I be kind and compassionate and caring if I know that I will not receive retribution for my cruelty? No higher power is watching me, so what's the point of being kind? Being kind for kindness's sake? No. Never. 

Humans, by nature, are cruel and uncaring. The only reason why we hide behind a mask of civility and compassion is because we think that some higher power is out there, watching us, judging us, and weighing each and every action we commit in a cosmic scale. This is the facade that we hide behind. 

And I no longer need to hide behind my paper and plaster-made mask. For the very first time in a _very_ long time, I no longer need to hide who I truly am. And I am a power unto myself, destroying everything in my path. I delight and take pleasure in that destruction and that corruption. I kill; I torture; I hate.

And I don't care about anyone who stands in my way.

Yadonushi is probably the main exception to all of this, but that's because I need his/mine/our body. He is just a tool, a home for me to reside in. But he could still die in the end; I'll just need to find another home. (Sometimes I wonder if that is true. After all, doesn't each yami have only one omote? What would happen to me if he dies--and never comes back? Will I die, too? Or will I continue on with this dreary existence that some stupid mortals call 'life'? I don't know...) Yadonushi's a fool, though. He thinks that there is a higher power out there, looking out for him, and 'forgiving my transgressions.' 

I do not need forgiveness, nor do I look for it, nor do I expect. I am who I am. Nothing and no one can ever change that.

Yadonushi begs to differ. He says that with love and faith, everything can change and everything _does_ make a difference. He says that reform can happen with forgiveness. 

Like I've said before on so many countless occassions--I am who I am. _NO ONE_ and _NOTHING_ can change that, nor do I _want_ it to. Yadonushi doesn't realize just how weak faith--including his own--is. It can be smashed into a million glass slivers with just one word.

THAT is faith.

THAT is the heart of it all.

So very, very fragile and so very, very easily broken. Like me. Like how I am inside--shattered and empty; lost faith, lost hope, lost dreams. I can still remember the exact day that this all started, too. Even after all these years, it leaves a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Pharaoh wants his memories back; it's a need driving him to self-destruction. But sometimes memories _shouldn't_ be brought back and _shouldn't_ be relived. 

Looking up at a cornflower blue sky--no cloud in sight. Ra's light shining brightly down upon us all, so bright we have to squint to make out even the faintest of details. Wishing that we _couldn't_ see even those details. Blood running down the wooden platform, each person trying their hardest not to whimper and scream in fear. In pain. In horror. Even I was horrified and sickened by it all. Now, too, as well.

Hoping--just hoping and praying and begging--that one of my gods would come down and stop it all. Whisk me away and save me, body and soul. But no one came and no one stopped it. None of my prayers were answered and no one _cared_. And then I died, waiting to be led into our version of the afterlife. 

No one came and no one remembered me or mourned for me. I was left all alone in the darkness, sobbing as I had never done as a child.

Blood-red tears.

Waiting and waiting and waiting--for years trapped in the darkness I had coveted so long ago. I don't covet it any longer. Hate would be a better word, I think. I hate that which I had once loved so dearly. Now insanity and blood have become my world. Have become my faith; my oh-so shattered faith. This is what it's like living in limbo.

Every religion, every faith, tries to promote good will among others. Why? It's just a farce, a play to be performed as well as the actors are able to. When will humanity realize that religion is just that--a farce? A satire? When will they realize that we are nothing more than animals wandering this planet, hoping for something better, wishing for something better, and living out our lives expecting that 'something better' will come to us eventually--in Nirvana, heaven, reincarnation, whatever. This is nothing more than a play that must be acted out until we all fall over, dead.

In the end, it doesn't matter. In the end, nothing and no one matters. Just you... And ending. The end and no more--ever. This is what it's like without faith and religion. This is what reality looks like. This is what it's like to not have a buffer between your fantasies, your treasured dreams, and the truth--harsh, cold, and unrelenting.

_This_ is truth.

Miracles do not exist. God does not exist. We are all alone out here, floating through an endless oblivion of space, wondering and hoping that someone out there loves us and cares for us...but deep down inside, in the very back of our minds, we know that we are all alone.

_This_ is truth.

This is why I hate. This is why I bleed and kill and destroy and corrupt. Because in the end--when I'm well and truly dead--it won't matter. I'll just rot under an Egyptian sun, a mere ghost of a memory with no one to remember me, nor with anyone to mourn for me. This is my reality and I embrace it. I have no other choice.

What other choice do I have? Surely you can answer that. No? That's because you can't. I have no other choice and this is all that's left for me--a shattered visage, memories of a time long ago, bittersweet and hateful, something that I yearn for with a passion, but hate to relive, edging away from it all with a scream that echoes across the skies. No, Pharaoh does _not_ understand. He doesn't understand at all.

The truth and the here-and-now is this: We must fight and we must become as the gods themselves because no one else will.

When everything is said and done, where does it leave us? We're all alone--all of us. The spirits that reside in the Sennen Items are even more so. This is why we thirst to become gods, mighty and powerful and indestructible. This is why we fight. This is why we so willingly spill our lifeblood onto the marbled floor. We know what's left for us and so we no longer hold back. THIS is our reality and THIS is our truth. There is nothing else for us. No, not any longer.

And even this doesn't seem to matter anymore, anyway.

Why care and why must it matter if we will become gods as well? Kaiba once told Pharaoh when he thought he was going to be defeated by Osiris: "Defeat God." Kaiba understood--he understands us at a deeper level never previously achieved and has his own jaded perception of reality. True, his perception isn't the truth--there is still a little bit of faith in him, brought on by his little brother--but he understands us more than anyone else. But even he doesn't understand us completely.

We stand alone, all alone.

...because, in the end, we ARE alone.

Nothing will ever change that. We have no faith, no hope, no dreams, and for Yami no Malik and myself--no love. Our world is full of cool jade and forever twilight. This is how it is and this is how it'll always _be_. Nothing can ever change that--certainly not a naive faith that everything will turn out alright.

Why?

...because nothing ever does turn out alright.

There is no hidden meaning in the darkness, no great power looking down upon you, filled with love and caring and kindness. There are only nightmares in the darkness, in the blackest part of Night, when all the world waits with gasping and wheezing breath--hidden monsters and demons. Demons with red eyes and pointed canines. Demons and monsters darker than dark--waiting with bated breath, quivering expectation, for the world to fall into oblivion.

I am a demon.

...but at least I don't lie about it.

No more lies--not now, not ever. I won't allow for it and I hate it all. I believe in no one and in nothing. _I_ am all alone. This is how it's always been. And this is how it'll always _be_. From now until the end of eternity, if such a thing even exists.

... Blood-red tears and blood-red eyes, staring up at an empty sky. ...

  
  


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The unbelievably intense sun beat down upon him, but he ignored it and continued on, almost oblivious to the burning sweat trickling down into his eyes, the heat rising up out of the sand to seep through the bottom of his shoes and into the soles of his feet, the fact that his body was hot all over--sunburn and heatstroke were finally paying their tolls on his fair skin, the alabaster skin turning an ugly and angry fire-engine red. 

But still, he stubbornly forged on, ignoring all pain, ignoring everything around him until his gaze was focused into a razor-sharp point.

The temple was so close. So very, very close.

One foot in front of another until all he _could_ think about was just walking--walking and walking and walking, no end and seemingly no beginning. But it didn't seem to matter anymore. All of the pain and the suffering--none of it mattered. He just had to reach his goal.

Blessed shade--cool stone under fingertips and feet. Fuzzy light, dust motes floating up into the air, almost like golden stardust. Age... So much age all around him, pressing down upon him in a smothering weight. For the very first time in a _long_ time, Yami no Bakura felt young. This temple was considered ancient even while he had been alive. Though old, it had once carried a feeling of holiness and grandeur, of murmured secrets, whispered deep within the night and its ebony shadows. Now the temple just felt tired and wearied. Like Yami no Bakura, it too had lost faith and its worshipers. Lost its once-great gods and goddesses.

One step closer--just one step.

Murals all around--patron and favorite gods and goddesses, loving mortals, saving mortals, punishing mortals, rewarding mortals. Almost every painting dealt with both gods and ordinary (and sometimes not-so-ordinary) humans. Joined faith in each other.

Cat-quiet footsteps over dusty marble that once shone with vitality.

...finally stopping in front of the altar and the statue that resided behind. Red-tinged eyes looked up--yet no feelings were shown. Yami no Bakura wouldn't allow it. Empty and expressionless eyes gazed back into his own--there was nothing in them. Nothing and no one. The canine face of Anubis was melancholy and distant--but not unreachable, as Yami no Bakura had once thought.

Hushed silence.

The dark spirit spoke: "Out of all the gods and the goddesses, you were my favorite and my patron. I honored you the most. You were the one that I called to when I was about to die all those years ago. You were the one that I hoped would come--prayed and begged would come. I never beg. But I begged to you. They killed me and you never came. I waited in that dark place; I never knew how long I waited for you--but I did wait. Yet again: You never came. A long time ago and once upon a time, I loved you. But now I only hate you."

He smiled a bitter smile and turned on his heel, walking out of the temple, and never once looking back. Later on, he never once regretted not looking back as he left, finally coming to terms with thousands of years of bitterness, pain, and jaded cynicism. No; no regrets at all.

As the lone figure faded into the distance, the rising heat distorting his image until he was just a blur, the statue of Anubis looked on. And as Yami no Bakura disappeared into the endless sea of sand, a soft crying filled the temple and the statue cried bloody tears.

Too late. Centuries too late.

We are all alone.

~The wind carried the crying and the tears over the sand dunes until they finally faded into nothing...~

...all alone...

  
  


**Owari**

  
  
  
  
  
  


A/N: Yami no Bakura is probably one of the most complex Yu-Gi-Oh! characters because of the fact that he's very secretive and very random--in many circumstances, it's hard to judge how he's going to react _because_ of that randomness. 

He, like several of the other characters, seem very disdainful of religion. (Kaiba's little quote is what he does actually say in the subtitled version of the Battle City episodes.) Out of all of the characters, I very much think that Yami no Bakura would have been the most disdainful of religion because of his nature and probably his history, as well.

I also wanted to show another facet of Yami no Bakura--and I tried to do that with which Egyptian god he picked as his patron. Anubis. In Egyptian myth and legend, Anubis was the god of mercy. And _that_ adds a whole new level to WHY and to WHO Yami no Bakura was praying. Yet another twisted face of his that you didn't previously know about, right?

The main point of this story was to show that opinion and that perspective--all from his point of view. This was actually extremely hard to write because I'm happy with my religion and I love the God and the Goddess. Writing this, I wanted to bring out several emotions in the reader while also trying to show you the reasons why Yami no Bakura is the way he is. I may or may not have done a good job at this, but hopefully... I've shown you a different side of him that's rarely--if ever--shown at all. Maybe your opinion of him has changed, hmmm?

~Neko-chan

  
  


SPECIAL THANKS: I want to thank all of the people who looked over my story and beta read it and told me what they thought of it--plot-wise, emotion-wise, and character-wise. You do realize that without you all I would _not_ have managed to finish this psychological piece nor would I have had to guts to submit it, right? Thank you--all of you. Difinity, Steph_Hime, BakuraInHiding, Danny, Pikachumaniac, Nephthys, Azrael, Amy-chan (a.k.a. The Octopus Society), and--of course--my regular beta reader... DruidessQueen. To be blunt--You guys rock! ^_~


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